Cherry Kisses
by Shinoda Senshi
Summary: Some addictions are meant to be encouraged. M/M slash


**Cherry Kisses**

I'm in love with my best friend. I just haven't told him yet. And he's in love with me, but hasn't gotten around to letting me know. We know we love each other. Our families know we love each other. It's the actual _words_ that have failed to put in an appearance. We dance around the issue like a World Championship waltz duo. It's not like it's a sensitive subject. It's just that… if we talk about it, then we have to _do_ something about it. We'd have to be… together. An Item. A Couple. Boyfriend and… boyfriend.

Ever since Kane came to my high school a year and a half ago – he saved me from being whammied by a stray tennis ball – he and I have been inseparable. We sit next to each other in class, eat together at lunch, and do our homework together. He's like a second son to my folks. And I know every one of the kinks in his family room's fold-away mattress. We're best friends and that's what best friends do.

Then he got a girlfriend. Tori. I hate her. I want to gouge her eyes out with a dirty spork. She was vain. She was gossipy. She was all wrong for him. And, boy, did that bitch hate me. Probably because I was the only thing standing in the way of Kane becoming her complete slave. It burned her up inside whenever he refused to break his plans with me just so he could do whatever she wanted. No matter how much she whined and wheedled, he never missed one of our Friday night Pizza and a Movie "dates".

Tori was the first person to ever refer to them as "dates". She was also the first to accuse me of being in love with _her_ boyfriend. I denied it, of course. Mostly because it was coming out of her mouth. She could've told me the Earth was round and I would've disputed it. Even after all the facts rolled in. Besides, what proof did she have that there was more than friendship between myself and Kane? Just because he would rather spend time with me than that piece of trash only meant that he still had some good taste and common sense.

I'll never forget the day they broke up. I would've done cartwheels if it hadn't been so nasty. It was Friday night, our Pizza and a Movie night. Typically, we would order in a pizza and rent a movie or watch something on cable. This time, however, he thought it would be a good idea to go out. So we split a pizza at our favorite place – we're growing boys, after all – before heading to the movie theater. Kane's a horror movie nut and just had to see the latest _Saw_ on it's opening night. I still don't know how we were able to get tickets.

The concession stand is where it all went down. In between deciding which of us would get the snacks while the other held the seats, Tori and her best friend, Stephanie, showed up. Kane gave them a half-wave while I flat-out ignored them. I was no friend of Stephanie McMahon and she was no friend of mine. We operate in different circles and like to pretend the other doesn't exist. Plus, I'd overheard her saying some really foul things about Kane to Tori and it was only the threat of an expulsion that kept me from cleaning her clock. I don't care if she is a girl. She was not above an ass-kicking.

Catching sight of me and Kane, Tori barreled over with Stephanie hot on her tacky little heels. "I don't believe it!" she cried, waving her hands about. "I just don't believe it!"

"Neither can I," I said. "What kind of person owns hot pink, leopard-print bell bottoms?"

"You stay out of this, you… you sneak." She shook a finger at me. Amazingly, her nails matched her pants. I'd never seen that particular color before. No, I tell a lie. Pepto-Bismol is exactly that shade. "Don't think I don't know what you're up to."

I have no idea what she's talking about, but I'm willing to let her have enough rope to hang herself.

She returned to sniping at Kane. "What are you doing here with _him_?"

Kane looked at her as if she'd grown scales and a tail. Believe me when I say that that would only improve her appearance. "It's Friday night," he replied. "Friday night's are always movie night."

"Well, it's one thing to hang out in your house… But this is in public!"

Honestly! The nerve of that girl. "Ya hear that, Kane. We ain't allowed out in public. Yet this bubblegum Godzilla is free to trash the city whenever she damn well pleases."

With trained quickness, Kane stepped between us. "I'm not seeing the problem here."

Hands on hips, Tori assumed the Diva position. "Well, let me break it down for you. As your girlfriend, you are supposed to go out on dates with me."

"I do."

"Me and only me, Kane!"

"I do! You're the only girl I date."

"Aha!" cackled Stephanie, attracting the attention of half the lobby. "He even admits it!"

By this time, Kane is beyond confused. Apparently, he flunked Girl-Speak 101. "Of course I admit it. It's the truth. I don't date anyone but you."

"Then what do you call this?"

"Movie night," Kane and I declared in unison. I elbowed him in the side. "Jinx. You own me a soda."

"Fine, but no Mountain Dew. It makes you hyper."

"Says the King of the Jolly Ranchers." Kane is addicted to Jolly Ranchers. They're his crack. For some reason, he only eats the red ones, leaving the rest to me and his brother. He's funny that way.

"This is what I'm talking about." Tori's eyes filled with tears. She's the only person I've met that can cry on cue. "You treat Chris better than you treat me!"

Much to her dismay, Kane has never been a sucker for the waterworks. Or maybe it's just her. When my cat Sylvester died, he let me cry on his shoulder for an hour. He'd stroked my hair and hadn't gotten angry when I got a little out of hand in the snot department. Kane really is the tops.

"What are you talking about? There's stuff that I do with you that I don't do with Chris."

"Please," I groaned. "No details. I've just eaten."

Stephanie threw me her patented Rich Girl Sneer. "Jealous, Jericho?"

"Only that I can't get my face on _Ripley's Believe It or Not_ like you, dear."

Tori gave up on crying and went right back to sniping. "I swear, you spend so much time with Chris, you might as well be dating _him_."

"But I'm dating you, Tori." I could see he was trying to find the most logical standpoint. I hated to inform him that it wouldn't help. "And, last time I checked, it's bad form to date more than one person at a time. There are books, magazine articles, and TV shows dedicated to the subject."

As soon as that witch turned all squinty-eyed, I knew he was about to catch some hell. "So, what you're telling me…" she started. That's never a good way to begin a sentence. It usually means that there are bad things to come. Very bad, very painful things. "So, what you're telling me is that the only thing keeping you from dating Chris Jericho is our relationship?"

The wheels were spinning in Kane's head. He knew he was in trouble, wasn't exactly sure why, and had no clue what to say to avoid total disaster. He settled for the old stand-by. "We can talk about this later."

"No," growled Tori. "We can't." I wouldn't have been surprised if she'd started breathing fire. It would go well with the scales and tail. "Now, you tell me who you want to be with. Me? Or Chris?"

"Now?" asked Kane. "I don't have time…"

"Now Kane!"

A person can only be pushed so far. And when Kane snapped, it was a sight to behold. "_Now_? Right now, Chris is the person I want o be with. I have fun with Chris. I never have to worry about how I should act. I never have to be on edge. I have been edge every single second I've spend with you! And I have spent the past two weeks wondering if you were going to break up with me. I wasn't dreading it, either. In fact, I was hoping it would come around sooner rather than later so I wouldn't have to buy you a damn Christmas present!" One never truly appreciates Kane's size until he's looming over you, ready to break your damn neck. "So, right now, I'm going to see a movie _with Chris_. Then I'm going back home _with Chris_ where I will spend the night _with Chris_. And, in the morning, I'm going out for breakfast… _with Chris_!"

Tori looked at Stephanie for support, but Stephanie was taking far too much interest in the contents of her purse to even notice her. "If you love him so much, why don't you marry him?" It was lame, but the girl _had_ just gotten cut off at the knees. A lesser person would've just slinked off into a dark corner to lick their wounds.

"I'd marry him before I'd marry you."

He took me by the hand and led me towards our theater. It was awkward trying to match his pace, but I wasn't about to complain. I couldn't resist looking back over my shoulder and waving at Tori and Stephanie. It was petty, but sometimes petty is all a person's got.

"Fine!" Tori hollered. "I hope you two live happily ever after!"

That had been three and a half months ago. It was during that period of time that I cam to realize just what being with Kane meant to me. Not just as his friend, but as his… Whenever I think "boyfriend", I don't know whether to be giddy or nauseous. Maybe it's the connotation. He's already been a "boyfriend" with Tori. I want him to be something else with me.

Which leads me to my current predicament. It's Valentine's Day. The day made for sweethearts. Having had no real sweetheart of my own in the past, it's always been just another day to me. A day full of giggling, sighing females… But still just another ordinary day. At least, it was…

"You waitin' for pigeons to roost or what?"

I've been standing on his front step, watching the cars go by, for the past five minutes. I could tell him that I was deep in thought, but that would leave myself open for a range of jokes. I turn to find him leaning in the doorway, his bare arms crossed over his chest. I don't know how he can stand to sport sleeveless shirts in winter, but he sure looks good doing it. Kane's very… What's that annoying word? Buff. Kane is definitely buff. I wouldn't be caught dead using that word aloud, but it suits him. I've had dreams about those arms.

"Oh, Kane," I sob, clasping his hands in mine. "Have I told you how much I adore your dazzling charm and wit?"

He smirks, knowing there's a punch-line somewhere. "No, Chris."

I release his hands. "Ever wonder why?"

Cue the eye-roll. "No. But I do wonder why I associate with you."

Because he loves me. "Because I'm the only person willing to sit through a _Stargate_ marathon with you. Now, let me in before I get unpleasant."

Kane steps aside, beckoning me to enter. "You were born unpleasant, Jericho."

"And yet you still love me."

That comment stops him in his tracks. He just looks at me, unable to acknowledge that he truly does love me. I resist the urge to whip his glasses off, just so I can get some sort of reaction. It's Sunday and Kane only wears his glasses on the weekend. If he could, he'd wear his contacts every day of the week, but Mark won't let him. He hates his glasses; I think they're quite smart. I told him they made him look sophisticated and worldly and he tried to smother me with a pillow. That put an end to all conversations about the glasses.

"Is there any particular reason you're terrorizing me today or are you just bored?"

"I'm never bored with you around, Kane." I push past him, heading up the stairs to his room as he tries to figure out if I was being sarcastic.

Stereotypically, most teenagers have some sort of sign on their door, warning others against intrusion. A STOP sign. Skull and crossbones, perhaps. The poster on Kane's door reads: "Welcome… Please disregard the dismembered corpses. It's so hard to find good help these days." The boy's got style.

Upon entering his room, I kick my shoes off and drop my bag and myself onto his bed. It's not entirely unusual for me to slip under his covers and catch a few winks. I can only watch so many rounds of Mortal Kombat before I just pass the fuck out. He even tucked me in, the angel.

"Make yourself at home," he says, shoving my bag out of his way so he can sit down next to me.

"Careful… Your present's in there."

"You got me a Valentine's Day present?"

So he _does_ know what day it is… "Yeah… Nothing major, though."

Kane opens the bag and takes out this gigantic mass of wrapping paper and tape. "You wrapped this yourself, didn't you?"

When it comes to wrapping gifts, I have some sort of deficiency. I either use too much paper or not enough. And I could go through a whole roll of scotch tape on a box the size of a pack of cigarettes. Everything's always properly measured when I start. But, by the end…

"Shut up and open it."

After some tugging, struggling, and cussing, Kane finally gets it unwrapped. In his hands is a 3.5-quart plastic jar, filled with red Jolly Ranchers. And _only_ red Jolly Ranchers. Sitting on the floor of my closet are thirty-two packs of Jolly Ranchers in a plastic bag. Every single pack is missing their cherry counterparts. I'm gonna be eating those suckers until Halloween. My dentist may never forgive me.

I kneel beside him on the bed as he turns the jar over in his hands. He just can't take his eyes off of it. "Do you like it?" I already know the answer. I just want to hear him say it.

"It's perfect, Chris," he whispers. "I love it."

Finally, he turns his head and looks at me. He's close enough to kiss. I've thought about kissing him a lot in the past few weeks and I've never had a better opportunity than right now. With deliberate slowness, I lean forward. In case I've misjudged the moment, in case I've misjudged everything, I want to give him the chance to change the course of what is about to happen. Plus, if everything goes as planned and this is all meant to be, I want to savor this moment. He doesn't pull away. Shifting on the bed, he turns his whole body towards me, placing the jar in the space between us. Intentions made clear, he tips his head a little to one side and closes his eyes.

Our lips meet. They press together as I feel his hand cup my face. This is real. This is actually happening. I am in his bedroom, on his bed, kissing him. They're soft, his lips, and warm. I place one hand on his neck and can feel his pulse. I expect it to be pounding, but it's not. It's strong and regular. Like it's the most natural thing in the world to be kissing me. Maybe it is. With the same amount of slowness as it began, the kiss ends. But it's like our lips don't want it to be over. They leave little lingering pecks until it's finally times to depart.

"Chris?" He sighs my name, making me want to claim his lips again.

"I think I'm addicted to this."

He laughs. I can feel the rumbling against my hand on his neck. "I'm sure you can quit at any time."

My nose rubs against his as I force myself not to give in to temptation. "No, I can't. It's like you and your candy. I can't have just one. One's not enough."

"You sure know how to _stroke_ a guy's ego."

Pervert. God, I love him. "Leave the dirty jokes to me, alright?" I pop the top on the jarful of candy that would last most people half a year. Pulling out one piece, I manage to unwrap it one-handed. "I've been wondering what you taste like after eating a bunch of these." His eyes follow my hand as I place the candy between my lips, holding it between my teeth. _Come and get it, big boy._

The blue irises of his eyes darken as he smiles wickedly. No person should be allowed to look that damn good. It's a danger to the public. How can he not know who beautiful he is? His eyes, his lips, his hands… He's the complete package, no doubt about it. And, right now, he's all mine. He cups my face again, rubbing his thumb along my bottom lip. It's hard to tell which sweet treat is driving his hunger: my mouth or his favorite candy.

The jar is momentarily forgotten as he pulls me all the way into his lap. Automatically, my legs wrap themselves around his hips. He leans forward to claim his prize; I pull my head away. As a matter of prevention, he locks one arm around my waist and one hand on the back of my neck. I gasp, almost swallowing the Jolly Rancher whole, as the front seam of his jeans rubs against my crotch. This is the closest he and I have ever been and I can't keep myself from rocking my hips against him. While I am deeply engrossed in the act of riding that seam, Kane pulls my head down and wraps his lips around the candy dangling from my lips. It slips into his mouth, followed immediately by my tongue. My mouth becomes his primary target as the candy is shoved aside in order to make room for our questing tongues.

The first kiss in the life of Chris Jericho occurred at the age of five, while he hung upside down on the playground jungle gym. His first French kiss took place during a round of Spin the Bottle at the thirteenth birthday party of Jeff Hardy. Patricia Stratigias' braces had almost ripped the skin off his bottom lip. And on a Sunday afternoon, in the lap of the most beautiful boy in the world, he was given his first _real_ kiss.

**END**


End file.
